I was the eldest of seven children: our parents were in easy circumstances, and lived in considerable style; they had a genteel house, and genteel servants, and kept genteel company: for my father had spent the former part of his life as a merchant, and in speculating had contracted some fortune, which he chose to lay out upon himself and children in such a manner, that, during the greater part of my life, we lived genteelly at the expence of an easy competence.
My father had his faults and virtues like other men: he was proud, but honest; and generous, but too much addicted to hospitality. He had a great love for the Church, and an insinuating mildness of behaviour that won upon all who had intercourse with him. His person was rather above the middle size, his complexion florid, and his aspect open; he had been tolerably handsome in his youth, and preserved in his old age a serenity of mind which rendered him always acceptable.
The scene of my father's pastoral life was a little country-town, where he had been for many years vicar. It was a place by no means distinguished by any remarkable prosperity: the parish consisted of a few decent families, who lived in a tranquillity begot of mutual good-will, and the vicar was esteemed as the mild, obliging, and affable neighbour. Our house was situate in a pleasant lane, adjoining a small churchyard, and commanding a view of the green hills that rose gently about the town.
Our family consisted of my father, my mother, and myself, with four younger brothers and sisters. My mother was a woman of a sweet temper and modest behaviour; she governed our household with a gentle hand, and was beloved by all. Her occupations were simple; she regulated our domestic affairs, and instructed us with the most careful attention: and though our conveniences were small, the harmony and tenderness of our family made them sufficient.
My father, who had been uniformly fortunate in his beginning and unfortunate by his own temper, had a singular turn for reading and contemplation: his library was the repose of his mind. Among his books were many useful and instructive volumes; he loved history and theology, and often entertained us with anecdotes of ancient times, and the lives of good men. His conversation was seasoned with such maxims as were drawn from the study of moral writings; and, though sometimes too severe in his censure, he always aimed at doing good.
It might be proper here to mention, that the simplicity of our life and the constancy of our affection made us happy in our little circle. We had our domestic amusements, our walks, and our occasional visits; and though we were exposed to the common accidents of life, yet the tenderness of our relations softened every trial. This sweetness of family comfort I shall always remember with gratitude, as the best part of my early days.